Before I had children, I never spent much time with them. I have no siblings; none of my friends had kids; I never even babysat very much. And so when I brought Indy home from the hospital, I had to figure out - very quickly - what this whole "mothering" thing was about. I cobbled together a parent-persona that I'm pretty sure was based largely on Kirstie Alley's character in Look Who's Talking, and when I heard someone say "Mom" I often found myself looking around, wondering who they were talking to. I watched other moms for clues, wondering how they seemed so confident in their decisions: my child will eat only organic food, my child will breastfeed for a year, my child will never hear his parents raise their voices.

I made my own baby food for exactly one week. I declared I would breastfeed until my children were at least six months old, and then stopped at 13 weeks for the first, 11 for the second. Kendrick and I fight - sometimes loudly - and although I wish this weren't the case, our kids have certainly seen it.

I think part of why Erin and I became such close friends is that we recognized this uncertainty in each other; this struggle to find a label that might help us navigate this strange new Mom World we found ourselves living in. But above it all, I think what we shared was a profound desire to have someone tell us that the kind of mom we should be was the one we already were.

When I left home, these sneakers were snow-white. 

Hey there! I'm in St. Louis. Again. (And once more again later on this summer.) This go-round is three days long (plus two travel days), and each of those three days has involved 12-13 hour shoots in 100-degree weather (with occasional thunderstorms), plus a LOT of dust. And mud. And things like construction equipment.

I am disgusting.